[#249] Mother Daughter Day

"Babygirl," I said to get her attention.  She had been staring off into space for a few minutes, and I could tell she was focusing.  And I didn't hide my nickname for my mom: no, I said it loudly enough that everyone around us would hear.  A few heads turned, but no more than superficial curiosity.

"Y-yes?" she muttered, turning to look at me as we walked through the grocery store.  I had to make dinner tonight, since it was obvious my "mother" was incapable.  Actually, this past month had made it perfectly clear who the parent was in our relationship.

"Please fetch me that cereal, from the high shelf," I told her.  I watched the hem of her skirt with a rush of excitement.  It was JUST long enough to hide her thick white diaper.

With a deep sigh, she swallowed her pride and nodded her head, stepping up to the shelf and reaching up all the way to the top. Of course she could feel her skirt lifting up, how could she miss that? And I moved every second of it, every moment of depravity and despair, every moment of surrender I knew that my Babygirl had to be feeling. Mmm. It was delicious.

"Not that one, Babygirl," I waited for her to put it in the cart and everything, "the other one, put that one back."

I watched the pain in her eyes.  She hated it!  But she loved it.  She wanted me to humiliate her, and I wanted to give her untold humiliation.  Maybe it was time we step things up a notch...

"That's good, Babygirl," I told her, after she set the new box in the cart.  I could still read the faraway look in her eyes.  She had to go.  With everything I'd been feeding her, I wasn't surprised.  But a huge mess in her diaper would cause it to sag far below her skirt.  I had to be patient.

"Come on, let's go for a walk in the park next."

"But..."

"No arguing, Babygirl," I said sharply, and she shut up.

The park wasn't exactly close - two blocks away, across the street, and I'd of course make sure we walked nice and slow. Groceries and all - even though my Mother Dearest would be the one carrying the bags. I knew I should have felt some guilt about this, but she was a fucked up pervert just as much as I was a fucked up pervert, and that was just the ducks nuts as far as I was concerned. We checked out, and she tugged on her skirt like a toddler doing the potty dance - how appropriate!

I watched sweat bead on her forehead.  She knew better than to ask to use the toilet these days.  No, she was my babygirl now.  She hesitated on a step and I saw her wince.  There was no better time.

I stopped in front of her and tilted her chin up to look at me.  My mother, in a diaper, and so close to filling it...

"Go ahead," I told her with a smile. "Make your diaper sag for everyone to see."

"Allison..."

"No, no.  I think from now on... you'll call me Mommy." Her eyes went as wide as saucers and I watched the indignation rise in her chest.

"Absolutely not!"

"You don't have a choice," I reminded her. "I have photos of you.  Videos of you.  And if you ever call me that name again, I'll send every single one of them to your contacts list."

I watched the anger in her eyes color over with fear.

"Now, what's my name?"

There was a sweet moment in watching resolve break; so much like a fever, really, she struggled and she fretted and she argued in her own head, but ultimately... just like the fever, her resolve broke. She sighed deeply. And she swallowed like her mouth was dry. And then she said it.

"Mommy..."

"What was that?" I prompted, cupping my head, "I can't hear you over the sound of you being about to shit your diaper in public, what did you say?"

"Mommy..."

"Again!"

"Mommy..."

"Louder, Babygirl!"

"YES MOMMY!"

Her diaper began to sag as a familiar smell tainted the air around her.  Other park-go-ers were staring on in confusion.  I watched their eyes flitter from my babygirl and down to her skirt.  And I'm sure she noticed as well.

Best not linger.

"Come now, babygirl," I told her and took her by the hand.  I pulled her along, and I could feel her fingertips shivering as she continued to fill her diaper, even as we walked.  The freshly used padding between her legs brushed up against her sex, spinning her into a tizzy.  By the time we got home, I knew she wouldn't be begging to cum.  No, she would have already done so many times.